


Once More Into the Fray

by pieckaboo



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Annie kicks ass, Ass-Kicking, F/M, Gyms, Levi kicks ass, Mixed Martial Arts, Need more of this pairing, Oops I kinda ship them now
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-23
Updated: 2017-02-23
Packaged: 2018-09-26 10:51:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9891530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pieckaboo/pseuds/pieckaboo
Summary: She wholeheartedly believes that she needed him. What she doesn't know, is that he needed her.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Shingeki no Kyojin nor its characters. All rights go to its creator.  
> Allow me to introduce, a LevixAnnie one-shot.  
> I first uploaded this on fanfiction.net, and slowly but surely I'm moving all my other works to this site.  
> So I used to not ship these two... and now I kinda do. I can ship Annie with almost anyone to be honest, but I absolutely love pairing her with Eren and/or Levi.  
> Which screws me over, because I ship the fuck out of Levi and Mikasa...  
> And I also ship Annie with Mikasa...  
> Okay... that's enough internet for today...  
> Ugh... in any event!  
> Read, review, enjoy!

The MMA gym on the south-side of the city was a dismal gunmetal hue, dull, and abhorrently uninviting from outward appearances.

The interior was devoid of much else, save for assorted bright fixtures, weight machines, punching bags, and a sparring ring where enthusiasts practicing various kinds of martial arts came to exercise both body and mind with some of the best around.

Among the prospective athletes were several trainers, some looking for raw talent, others honing in on their prized fighter's skills and abilities, preparing them for upcoming matches.

 Annie Leonhart was a frequent patron, having been a member of the gym for nearly a year. Day in and day out, she'd show up after a long day's work and utilize the facility's resources to quell her insatiable hunger for a natural high, an adrenaline rush; accomplishing said notions through the most violent means possible without landing her in a jail cell.

 

The place felt like a second home; surrounded by rough around the edges types, men looking to find an escape from tough times, ex-cons with criminal records, assholes who counted on their fists rather than words to settle things.

Several attendants were jumping rope, moving rhythmically to the beat playing in their earbuds, a couple of guys were partnering up for drills, taking turns after finishing their respective reps, all the while hip hop music was blaring through the speakers from corners along the upper walls.

After stripping down to her sports bra and purple Adidas shorts, she solidified her training session to a corner and began working on a punching bag, grunting and exhaling sharply with each hit.

Sweat flew off her brow with every blow, her fists aching with soreness. Assuming the proper fighting stance, she added several kicks to her routine, her attention fixated on the target ahead of her, never losing focus and remaining poised and balanced.

Just another day at the gym. Another solo training session, refusing to speak to anyone and ignoring proposals from a few trainers looking to take her on as their new client. Some guys would try and hit on her, complimenting her form and suggesting they train together. Others would scoff at her, questioning as to why a woman was intruding on the premises and wasting her time with such a pathetic technique.

On a few occasions, she'd even been challenged.

She never turned down a single offer for a sparring match, harboring pride for the methods she'd learned from her father.

Not one of those pathetic gym-rats were able to take her down, each and every one of them were put in their place and humiliated, defeated solely by her unique practices and style.

Five years in the military coupled with her father's fighting tactics ultimately crowned her as the modern day Joan of Arc.

"… _she's beauty and she's grace… she'll completely fuck up your face…"_

A few weeks after earning a respectable status, the regulars left her alone, allowing her to return to her usual routine and train in solitude and peace.

But the day _he_ walked in…

Raven black hair, narrowed steel grey eyes, body rippling with muscles.

He was the first man to stroll on inside to actually catch her completely by surprise. She noticed right from the start…

He was different.

It must have been his first day scouting out the gym, as she'd never seen him before.

The outsider positioned himself in a corner opposite hers, setting aside his belongings on a weight bench. The nameless individual began stretching, rolling his neck back and forth, extending both legs to their limit. Clad in a red muscle shirt and black shorts, he looked up towards the hefty punching bag in front of him and tilted his head from side to side, ready to begin.

Annie observed from the safe distance, curiously eyeing his form. She wondered... what was his story?

A nameless drifter comes sauntering on in one day, a look of determination unmatched by anyone else; it was only natural for her interest to be slightly piqued

She was somehow drawn to him, like a moth to a flame.

Annie shook her head, wiped her forehead, and resumed her session.

About half an hour later, Annie felt she was done for the day, throwing a towel around her neck and heeding the call to quench her thirst by guzzling down an entire bottle of arrowhead.

Before she could hit the showers and cleanse herself of all the impurities she'd accumulated from her workout, she turned and paused, her gym bag still swinging in the grasp of her hand.

She overheard a brief exchange ensue between the newcomer and a well-known high-roller.

 _Big Mike,_ or Mike Zacharius, was in town in for the weekend, training with his hot shot coach, Djel Sannes, in preparation for an upcoming MMA match. The guy was something of a celebrity; a local fellow who had managed to make it big and fight professionally. Annie recalled several instances when she'd seen him fighting in local venues, and even on TV.

He just so happened to be in need of a sparring opponent; in other words, he was in need of a human punching bag. Not one member of the facility had offered to face off with him for a friendly skirmish, fearful that they would get their asses kicked, and rightfully so.

Sannes offered two hundred dollars to anyone brave enough to enter the ring and give it their best shot; a proposal only one man was more than willing to accept.

The mysterious stranger approached the ring. "I'll fight him."

Sannes didn't even give the guy a second look. "No thanks, shorty. We don't need anyone getting themselves seriously hurt." He turned away and tried to get the attention of a few other patrons, asking them for what he considered a simple favor.

"Look," the raven haired man continued, "all I'm saying is that I'd be more than happy to keep your boy warm for you."

Sannes exchanged looks with his prized fighter, deciding if there were no further objections, they could proceed with his training.

Sannes whistled for the gym owner's attention, sitting calmly at the front desk.

"Did this guy sign a waiver?" He asked, trying to be heard above the incessant sounds of metal grinding and thumps resonating throughout the complex.

The gym owner gave him the thumbs up. "He's good to go."

Big Mike and Sannes looked over towards the newcomer. "What's your name?"

"Levi."

Annie still hadn't moved, her gaze centered on the outsider.

She was now able to put a name to a face.

"All right." Sannes sighed, figuring they were out of other options. "But if you get all torn up in there, that's on you, Levi."

Levi nodded and hopped into the ring, taking a moment to prepare himself for the friendly bout. Annie dropped her gym bag, fully intent on sticking around for the once-in-a-blue-moon event.

_This should be interesting._

After rolling boxer tape over his hands, carefully weaving one layer over the other, Levi waited patiently in his corner of the ring.

Sannes set the timer on his watch, thoroughly convinced this would end fairly quickly. "All right." He announced, clapping his hands together in haste. "Let's go!"

The two brawlers in the ring instinctively elevated their fists and held them up at level with their chests, both stepping forward, commencing the fight. Big Mike danced haughtily around Levi, taunting him with a fanatical grin.

Levi wasted no time hurling a front push kick to the center of Mike's vulnerable torso, sending him flying against the ropes, the only objects saving him from a humiliating fall.

"Watch his footing!" Sannes called out.

Levi followed through with a left jab, pairing it with a right hook before landing a midlevel kick against the side of Mike's abdomen. Mike lowered his arm in an effort to deflect the attack, trying desperately to remain balanced.

"Check that!" Sannes shouted. "Easy now."

Catching the pro fighter off guard with his unrelenting aggression and hard-to-read brashness, Levi hit him full force with another powerful blow, this time square in the jaw, following up with a low sweep kick that rendered Mike immobilized and on the floor, cursing in agony.

Sannes gritted his teeth. "Where the hell is your head at, boy?"

The mere sight of Big Mike on the ground had several spectators gather around the ring, wide eyed and gasping in awe, confused as to why the pro fighter was the one on the floor.

Mike had never succumbed to anyone during his training sessions at the facility, often beating his sparring partners to a pulp.

Mike quickly shot up from the ground, his knees wobbly, his muscles aching, and his head throbbing. By now, he was pissed; disgusted to have been rattled by this _nobody._ He stormed Levi's direction with the attention of knocking his teeth out, only to be further humiliated. Levi saw his attack coming from a mile away, after having analyzed his patterns from before, and swiftly dodged the blows aimed for his face and upper body, evading Mike's attempt at redeeming himself by lunging to the side.

"Get your head outta your ass!" Sannes' pleas fell on deaf ears as Mike continued to take on a merciless beating.

Levi forcefully pulled Mike's head down to meet the solid blunt edge of his kneecap, causing blood to gush out of his nose like a faucet. From there, Levi had him right where he wanted him. He continued to punch Mike's unguarded head, working him from all angles, and shooting his arms forward like firecrackers raining down from above.

Levi decided it was time to end this.

When Mike pulled his head up, finding limited space to avoid Levi's reach, he felt dizzied, hoping to just make it to the end of the round.

Levi saw this as his opportunity. He sprang forward and with unmatched speed forged a firm and steady one-two strike directly to Mike's unprotected jawbone.

A gut-wrenching groan spewed out of the larger man upon the clash of an iron-willed fist with vulnerable flesh.

It was lights out for the pro fighter; the prized darling of the southside gym falling unceremoniously to his knees.

Sannes looked down at his timer.

48 seconds.

It took less than a minute for this nobody to defeat his valuable asset; by KO of all things.

Levi walked up to an utterly stunned Sannes, ignoring the stares and shocked expressions of the crowd they had attracted earlier. Sweat trickling down the sides of his face, Levi narrowed his eyes.

"You owe me two hundred bucks."

* * *

_What dark fucking corner did this guy crawl out of?_

Annie paced forward, driven by a strong desire to learn more about the mysterious stranger.

 _Levi_.

After exiting the ring, two hundred dollars richer, he was instantly bombarded with numerous patrons asking about his technique, pestering him about his past and where he came from, urging him to join them in upcoming tournaments.

Levi declined every single offer, blew off every single inquiry. Like Annie, he was a lone wolf, preferring to train alone.

Annie felt as though it was fate, or some variation of destiny, that she change that.

He was about to walk past her when she planted her foot forward and stood firmly with her arms folded across her chest.

"Hey," she asserted, instantly catching his attention.

He stopped and stared menacingly at her, as if she were being intrusive.

Annie skipped the bullshit small talk, and went straight to the point. "You just kicked a professional MMA fighter's ass," she affirmed. "And I recognized a few of your move sets. Ex-military?"

Levi clenched his jaw. "What business of it is yours?" He grunted.

Annie chose not to waste her time playing army vet, reminiscing in the glory days of patriotism, back to when she'd served a couple tours overseas. "Let me train with you," she stated emphatically, holding her chin up.

Levi studied her closely, not sure what to make of her appearance. Pondering the idea only briefly, he shook his head in disdain. He couldn't aid this damsel in distress.

He had no desire to play the hero.

"Look around you," he responded curtly. "There's plenty of guys here who'd be more than willing to take you in. I'm not one of them." He continue heading for the locker room, but was immediately halted.

Annie blocked his way, stepping right in front him. "'Take me in?'" She scoffed. "Like I'm some sort of riff-raff or stray from behind a dumpster?" She refused to take no for an answer. "These assholes have no idea what they're doing. I don't see any potential future with any of them."

"What the hell are you trying to accomplish?" Levi felt his time was being carelessly wasted.

"I want to fight professionally."

"You? In the pros?"

"I have it in me, but I need one genuinely cold-hearted bastard to help get me there." Annie tucked a loose stray of hair behind her ears, hoping he would catch her drift. "I'm tired of shuffling through trainers who are afraid of hitting me where it hurts, bringing me to my breaking point, or pushing me to my limits like I'm made of fucking glass."

Levi was in disbelief. There were no words to describe the tenacity of this woman. But if she was so hell-bent on getting him to train her, he was more than happy to oblige her pleas. He would find every weakness, and tear her limb from limb, humbling her audacious impulses.

"If you're serious about this," Levi glowered, lowering his voice, "you better not pussy out on me. I'm not a fucking babysitter."

Annie nodded.

"If you're looking for a friend, you've got the wrong guy."

She nodded once more.

"You _will_ to grow to hate me," he assured her. "I won't go easy on you just because you're a girl."

"I understand."

"Do you?"

"This is what I want." She corrected herself, "What I _need."_

He exhaled sharply, accepting the terms. "It's your fucking funeral." He shook hands with her, assuming a tight grip on hers. "What's your name, kid?"

Her face lit up, eyes filled with determination. "Annie."

* * *

Months of grueling training had tore down the former foundation, and from the ruins, built a sturdier fortress of sheer strength and might.

Levi had broken her spirit time and time again, crushing her will, shattering her hopes; only to see her rise again after being pushed around and reduced to feeling lower than dirt.

Not once did she shed a tear. She vowed to press on and never give up.

It was about a year later she found herself exactly where she wanted to be; rising through the ranks in the unforgiving world of professional Mixed Martial Arts.

This night, however, would decide who would hold the World Title in the Women's Bantamweight Division.

Everything she had worked so hard for, pushing herself to the extreme, was riding on her ability to overcome.

A ramshackle awning, wavering spotlights, cameras flashing, throngs of people hollering in anticipation among the crowded stands. The darkness and the shadow of her familiar ally were her only comforts; the incessant noise a mere afterthought.

The cage doors hurled open, welcoming the two brawlers for the evening's main event.

Levi stood directly behind Annie. He placed his hands on her shoulders, urging her to stay focused.

Round one was set to begin momentarily.

Levi leaned closer to her, adding one last sentiment before allowing fate to take its course.

**_"Don't hold back."_ **

She nodded, breathing his words into her very soul, feeling completely invincible and strangely at peace.

She looked up opposite her corner and shot her opponent, the current champ, Nanaba Moller, a threatening glare. The woman emerged from her corner, donning a red headband over her pixie cut, a black sports bra, and bright neon green shorts with the German flag etched on the side. She was a formidable figure, slightly heavier in stature.

Annie kept a calmness about her, her cerulean pools never leaving her foe, watching as she wildly showboated to the masses and fed off the crowds energy.

Levi's attention remained fixated on his blonde prodigy, unfazed by all the trash talk and bets being placed against her.

The fucking idiots didn't know Annie Leonhart, but after tonight, she'd become a legend in her own right.

The ref had the two brawlers meet up in the center of the ring to go over a few rules. He finished his bit and urged them both to touch gloves.

At the echo of a bell, Nanaba set in, swinging enthusiastically but failing to hit her mark. Annie dodged, landing a punch on Nanaba's ribs before catching her leg with her side. Annie retreated, staying slightly out of reach through several attacks, waiting until she could anticipate Nanaba's next move. As Nanaba's foot moved to connect with Annie's torso, Annie deflected the attack, grabbing Nanaba's leg in the process. Shoving the German's upper body off balance, Annie swept her leg underneath, slamming Nanaba to the ground.

Momentarily dazed, Nanaba was barely able to fend off Annie's aggressive attack as she straddled her, raining blows onto the German's face and abdomen. To Annie's surprise, her opponent bucked her hips, sending the smaller of the blondes tumbling forward while raising her hands above her head to save her from the unwelcome kiss of solid ground. Seizing the opportunity, Nanaba reversed their positions, rolling them so she sat atop Annie, straddling one of her legs.

Levi knew it wasn't over yet. Annie was still in this fight.

Most would cower in defeat being confined in this position, feeling as though they'd lost the upper hand and could do no more than protect their heads from merciless blows.

But Annie proved different.

Amid the blows showering her way, her palm shot out, landing underneath Nanaba's nose and forcing her head to the side. With her midsection exposed, Annie punched Nanaba twice, causing her opponent to see stars, dizzied in a flustered state. Annie rolled over, violently pinning Nanaba to the floor, and locked her in a cobra clutch, trapping her arm and rendering most of Nanaba's body immobile.

The bell rang, concluding the first round.

The surprise turn of events had the entire crowd baffled, suddenly chanting a new name. Annie returned to her corner, facing Levi but fully aware he wouldn't offer her anything more than a curt nod. She somehow found the energy to smile, her breathing slightly labored in her recovery.

Levi simply rested his arms across his chest.

She had this match won.

He wouldn't accept any other outcome.

_Don't hold back._

* * *

The Women's Bantamweight division had a new champion.

Annie Leonhart pulled the upset, and was adorned with rowdy cheers, praise from riotous new fans, and sportscasters deeply confounded with the results of the highly anticipated match.

Yet all the attention and recognition that came with being an instant star was complete bullshit to her.

She wanted nothing more than to thank her mentor; the man responsible for molding her into the woman she came to be. He had disappeared behind the crowd; his work done. She searched for him outside the complex, scourged through seas of unfamiliar faces, pushed past a few stragglers.

She threw on a dark grey hoodie and headed outside; the sounds of the city filling her ears with cars honking, drunkards yelling unintelligibly, sirens blasting.

Annie turned a corner and there he was, waiting for her.

* * *

Neither spoke a word, because neither had to say anything at all. They way they carried themselves, the look she was giving him, said more than enough.

Levi studied her face. It poised a strange ethereal beauty under the moonlight; delicate but determined.

It fascinated him to feel as though he knows her face like the back of his hand. It fucking consumes him.

Both realized they were through with restraining themselves, denying them from the obvious for so long.

Time stops... leaving them locked in their trances.

Annie barely inhaled before it hit her all at once.

 _"Don't hold back."_ She whispers.

* * *

They stay like this fleetingly; their limbs entangled, humming with electricity.

As he enters her, she cries out his name, savoring the moment when their bodies are joined. She holds unto him, screaming out in pleasure, wrapping her legs around him.

They come together, their entire bodies shuddering upon release, and Levi collapses on top of her.

They pause to catch their breaths, finding solace in the silence.

A storm rages on, accompanied by the sounds of rain pattering against the window melodically.

Annie falls asleep.

Levi cradles her inside his arm, holding her close to him, running his fingers through her hair.

This isn't about falling in love.

They're two halves of the same person.

Two sides of the same coin.

He's come to accept that they're eerily similar. He's tactful in his approach to becoming bizarrely intimate with someone who harbors innumerable secrets, waiting for the day they can all be brought to light.

A double edged sword cuts both ways.

She whole-heartedly believes that she needed him.

What she doesn't know, is that _he_ needed _her._

He vows that one day he'll tell her. He'll tell her about the night terrors, the mysteries shrouding his past, what he felt the moment they first met.

_One day..._

Everything fades to black, as he falls asleep.


End file.
